The Kids Don't Stand A Chance
by Gvandnel
Summary: Revised version of Christmas with the Grangers. With Ron in Romania, Harry must spend his Christmas at Hermione's house. How will Ron, Ginny, the Grangers, and everyone else take this turn of events? Hermione and Harry also become Animagi. Humor/ H/Hr.
1. Chapter 1

_**So here is the "newer" version of **__**Christmas with the Grangers**__**. I figured that it would be easy to just start over, rather than update the other fanfiction.**_

_Please Review, Follow, or Favorite this and my other story._

_I'm pretty positive that I'm not JK Rowling. And if I am, someone must have used a false-memory charm on me and continues to spike my drinks with polyjuice potion…_

Hermione sat in front of the fire, doing some light reading. It was a cold day, even for December, and the chills sent most children up to bed early. Yet Hermione sat in front of the fire; Her eyes absorbing every word, every syllable, every letter. She had been reading for well over two hours and decided that a third wouldn't hurt. Tomorrow was, fortunately, Saturday.

It was well past midnight, and everyone was safe from the cold, tightly wrapped in his or her four-poster beds. Hermione yawned.

_One more section, Hermione. _She thought to herself, while continuing to read _Animagus, the History of and How to Find Your Inner Animal_. It was an old book, the pages of which curled, the paper was thick, fading, and appeared to have blood spilled on page three hundred and forty seven.

The sound of the wind dynamically _whooshing _and the cozy fireplace which radiated comfortable heat, created the perfect reading environment. She slightly smiled at the sight of her friends; Ron sprawled out, drooling, on a burgundy club chair, and Harry asleep on the floor, his head leaning on Hermione's cozy chair. She wanted to wake them up, but her book was just too tempting. Besides, she did not want Ron teasing her because she had reading, especially as Christmas break was nearing.

It had been like this for a while, her late nights that is. Every night for the past month Hermione read from this book. She'd read as Harry and Ron battled each other in Wizard's Chess, or as Ron harassed her for help on a potions assignment. She once clearly remembered trying to read as Ginny practically begged Hermione for "Harry Help." However as clever as she was, for once, Hermione did not understand how to become an Animagi. Sure she understood what to do, albeit she could not fathom _how_ to do it.

She stuffed her face in the book, her hand moving to place loose hair behind her ear. "Not all animagi become animagus in the same way, however." Hermione's book read. "There have been times, such as the case of Samwell the Cat, who—as the legend says—transformed into a cat as a baby. Samwell was unable to change back into a human until after his 27th birthday. He has since not tried to turn into a cat."

"Other cases include Seymour the Swift and Clayton the Bold, who rather than become animagi, simply transfigured themselves into a wolf and serpent respectively. However, the Ministry of Magic has made long lasting self-human-to-animal transfiguration illegal."

"Traditionally, animagi become their animal half through ceremony. Not all witches and wizards have this ability, however. (See index for animagus ceremony). Only powerful witches and wizards have the ability to transform themselves completely, without the need of The Polyjuice Potion, transfiguration, or-"

Hermione would have continued reading, if not for the fact that the rest of the next page was missing. Hermione also noticed that a large portion of the chapter had either been ripped out, or carefully blacked out. She attempted to counter-charm the blacked-out sentences, but found that nothing in her arsenal of magic worked. Frustratingly, she quickly closed her book. She knew that if she could just _read_ the rest of the book, even if only once, she'd be able to transform. Every night she tried the same counter-charms, hoping that one-day she would be successful. Never had Hermione been so frustrated with a book before. With Ron yes, but never a book.

If the book wasn't as thick, or bounded in leather for that matter, the sudden noise would not have startled a sleeping Harry. "Her-Hermione?" Harry said, his voice laced with sleep.

"Oh! Sorry for waking you, Harry. I didn't mean to."

But there was no response.

"Harry?" she called, standing up to speak with her friend. "No…" she heard Harry whisper. "No! No! Hermione! Ron!" He was sweating and restlessly fidgeting in his sleep in an attempt to restrain himself from calling out again. "Hermione!" He eventually screamed, this time much louder than before. He was having another nightmare.

She could see the look of pain on face. She could see as his face contorted into pure misery and torture. Hermione, desperate to help Harry from experiencing any more pain, began to soothe her friend. "Oh, Harry." She said, resting his head on her shoulder and holding dearly onto one of his cold and clammy hands. She tried calming Harry, as a mother would do to her sick child through cuddling and by whispering soothing nothings. Nonetheless, he still slept: Dreaming of Merlin-knows-what.

Eventually his body became less tense, he stopped speaking in his sleep, and the warmth returned to his body thanks to Hermione's close presence. She was crying for him, and for an hour she lay with Harry as Ron snored on, oblivious to anything that was happening. She wondered how often this had happened at night, and how often it went unnoticed.

Suddenly, she was very angry with Ron. How could he selfishly sleep as their best friend was obviously suffering? How many times has Ron slept through one of these nightmares? _Just how many times has Harry suffered, Ronald?_

Later, as she was staring into the dying fire, she scolded herself for thinking poorly of Ron. _It's not his fault_, she thought staring into the changing flames, watching as they rose, twisted; watching as the wood silently cracked, and the flickering embers it created float into the air.

_Harry hasn't told us about these nightmares_. Yet she knew he had them. She always knew. It was the way in which he carried himself the next morning—obviously not replenished and very concerned. It was as if the magic in his green eyes became dull, rather than its normal vivid that on any other day created butterflies in her stomach. _Oh, don't think of yourself now, Hermione…_

She thought herself to sleep that night in the Gryffindor common room, in front of a dying fire and holding hands with her best friend. Ron snored on that night, Hermione slept comfortably, even if she was in the most uncomfortable position to sleep in, and Harry did not have another nightmare. Until, he woke up to a group of confused Gryffindors that is.

"What's going on here?" Parvati, the first student down in the common room, curiously asked Lavender Brown as they saw Ron, Harry, and Hermione asleep in the common room.

Lavender shrugged, "I didn't hear Hermy enter last night, she must have mad Ron and Harry study with her all night!" Lavender and Parvati shared a laugh and walked to wake their fellow Gryffindors.

"Merlin's beard!" Parvati whispered to her friend, pointing out Harry and Hermione's joined hands. "That bloody Potter…he never did _that _to me. And I was his date to the Yule Dance!"

"Oh come off it," Lavender motioned. "_I_ think it's sweet! Don't you think that they just belong together?"

"Whatever." Parvati said dramatically, and with an equally dramatic hair flip looked away. The two witches laughed at the behavior and went to wake up their friends.

"_What's this?" _A voice called out before the two could do so.

"_Yeah didn't you know? I heard someone caught them snogging in an empty classroom!"_

"_What? Well what about Ginny?" _New voices were joining, agreeing to the question and becoming louder.

"_What about her?" _A girl scoffed.

Parvati and Lavender turned to look behind them. It seemed that all of the Gryffindors were now filing in through the common room, amused expressions on their faces and spreading gossip—which infuriated Lavender Brown, since that was _her_ job.

Parvati could see Ginny Weasley walking through the group of their whispering peers. "Some bravery!" the redhead angrily spat. Ginny brushed past the two friends and went to wake the trio.

Harry slowly cracked his neck as he woke. He tried to raise his hand to rub his aching neck, yet found it curiously attached to Hermione's. He looked into her sleepy eyes, became aware of the gossip that was circulating, and let go. Hermione turned red, and quickly darted to her room.

"Oi! What the bloody hell, mate?" Ron asked, standing over Harry. Quickly noticing his friend's furious expression, Harry tried to ease the tension by running a hand through his hair and shrugging. He had no words to explain himself; he had not known that he and his best friend were holding hands in the first place. "Sorry?" Harry tried, "I don't even know how it happened, mate."

Ron's redness began to fade as he jokingly punched his friend in the arm, trying to diffuse the tension between the two. Harry smiled, and found Ginny. She wasn't looking at him. In fact, she was looking at everything _besides_ Harry. He tried to gain her attention, but when he did so, she slowly turned around and rushed to her dorm.

Harry stood to face the group of Gryffindors who were now laughing and no longer cared to whisper.

"_That's what you get when you try and get two!_" Harry heard from the crowd. He knew that he should try and explain himself, yet found himself not caring. Who bloody cares with what these people thought? But then Harry reminded himself of Hermione, and began his explanations.

"Listen!" He called, as the gossip reached his peak. "Hermione and I aren't dating. No I _do not_ have two girlfriends. We were just experimenting with magic, you know Hermione with her books. I guess…I guess somewhere along the lines we dozed off."

Harry found that halfway through his speech that the majority of students did not care. Most of them had walked away, whether to spread gossip or get to class, Harry did not know. He heard a few apologies, yet still, a group of older boys shook his hand declaring him "a legend!"

Moments later, Hermione joined the Gryffindor Common Room, and soon after that, so did the Head of their house.

"Attention! Attention Gryffindors!" Professor McGonagall announced. The room went quiet. "As you all are all aware! Christmas is nearing—oh, stop your blabbering—and as usual, I have a list for all the names of students who will be joining Hogwarts for holiday break. Now! Whomever wishes to stay at the castle, please follow me. Yes, here we are then..."

A small group of students timidly followed their professor. None of the younger children wanted to be the only one who had to stay home, and waited until the last minute to join the Christmas march led by McGonagall.

"Be back in a sec, mate." Hermione heard Harry say to Ron, who nodded in response. Ron's family was able to visit Charlie in Romania for Christmas this year, which meant that Harry had to spend Christmas at Hogwarts, with the other witches and wizards who unfortunately were unable to go home for the break.

"Yes, this way students! Please follow me - Mr. Frey, 10 points from Gryffindor." Harry followed the sound of Professor McGonagall's stern voice, along with a handful of other students who unhappily followed to their involuntary confinement.

"Wait!" Hermione called after Harry, running to catch up with him and leaving behind a frustrated Ron. "Harry. Why don't. You come. With me for… Christ—mas?" Hermione said in between breaths, while holding onto Harry's robes for some much-needed support.

Harry laughed at the sight, "trouble running?" he smirked as Hermione hit him two handedly with her Animagus book. They continued to laugh, and when Harry thought he was finished, Hermione let out another high-pitched laugh and the two began a new round of side-hurting laughter.

"I don't know, Hermione." he began, holding back a chuckle. "I don't even know your family, and I don't want to invade on your family's holiday."

"You'd eagerly do it if Ron asked you..." she argued, placing her hand on a hip to show her disapproval. She was still laughing.

"Well... that's _different_." he muttered, once again facing the wrath of Hermione, and her potion textbook, which actually hurt Harry's arm. All smiles faded from their faces as Hermione continued.

"Why is it _different_?" She asked, starting to get angry. "I'm just trying to be a good friend. I don't want you to face Christmas alone. Especially with those…_nightmares_ you've been having."

Harry was taken aback; he brought Hermione over to the side. Professor McGonagall's voice no longer audible. "How did you know?" He asked, whispering.  
"Harry. It's me. _Of course _I know. Besides, you've been having those nightmares for ages. I know when you have one… and last night, why do you think I was there when you woke up?" she whispered back. Resisting a blush, Hermione said, "Why were you calling our names? Ron and mine, that is…"

Harry was silent. He looked away from Hermione's eyes. "We'll talk about that later. With Ron" he assured.

After some silence, where Hermione contemplated, Harry spoke again. "Like I said. I don't think I can, Hermione. Thanks really, but—"

"—I'll stay with you, then. It's settled!" Hermione straightened her cloak, and was prepared to take off, to tell McGonagall that she would be staying at Hogwarts this summer, to owl her parents that she wouldn't be coming home.

"Wait." Harry said, grabbing onto her sleeve before she could walk away. "I can't let you do that. It's your break. You deserve to be with your family. I can't let you stay here, Hermione."

"Then come with me." She pleaded. "My parents will be fine with it. I promise, Harry."

For some time he thought, and finally obliged. Hermione was beaming. She walked back into the common room, after hitting Harry with her book again for laughs.

"Aw, Potter." Professor McGonagall said, stopping and bending her tall neck to look Harry eye-to-eye. "It came to my attention that you would be staying here this Christmas, Potter. Change of heart?"

"You have no idea." Harry replied, not knowing what this break would have in store for him.

_So I know that this is not very different from the original chapter, but it is longer and it does foreshadow future events. The chapters from here on will either be new, or expanded versions of the original. I assure you that everything that happened in that fiction will happen within this story._

_Please Review to let me know what you think! _

_Thanks._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Here ya go guys. I hope ya'll enjoy. My chapters have been getting longer and I find it easier to write now—which is good._

As always, review, favorite, and make sure to give me some suggestions!

"Mr. Potter. Care to explain why haven't even opened your book?" Professor Snape monotonously announced to an entirely quiet Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry hadn't realized that they were supposed to open their books because he had been sitting absent-mindedly by his best friend Hermione. He moved to open his thick book and simultaneously apologized to his professor.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. I expect you to pay attention in class, Potter, not fantasize about your _Chosen One_ duties. Speak with me after class." And just like that, he returned to his lesson. After a few moments the entire class refocused on the professor, rather than stare—and in the Slytherin's case—smirk at Harry. He nervously twirled his quill in his hand and took note of Draco, who had still been glaring at him. After returning the glare, the blonde wizard shifted back to the professor. Harry would have liked to speak with Hermione about Draco, but he knew she'd tell him to get off it. He tried explaining to her how he disappeared from the Marauders Map, but she paid him no mind. Her mind must still be on Ron, Harry convinced himself. Harry continued to glare at Malfoy, but decided that he had lost enough points this week and made sure to pay attention to his most despised teacher throughout the class, which unfortunately just begun.

For the past two weeks his mind had been on break. Or rather, break with Hermione. To say he was nervous about the vacation was an understatement; Harry could not stop thinking about it. Hermione was his best friend; she would always be there for him. It was self-evident. She was there for him in third year, when they had saved his godfather, she had stuck by him during their fourth, while Ron hadn't, and now that Ron just got together with Lavender, she was with him for a majority of his time now.

Yet, he could not explain why he was so nervous. If Ron had asked Harry to visit for Christmas, he knew that he would not have to think about the answer. It was natural. So why was he so nervous? Was it because he knew that Hermione was a single child and was not looking forward to her mother and father watching his every move? Harry had made up all these scenarios in his mind, and none of them worked in his favor.

His mind was once again drifting, and a voice to his right brought him back into reality. He looked to his side and saw Hermione, just putting her hand down and answering a question. He hadn't paid attention to what she said, but he knew it was correct nonetheless. He smiled at her, and Hermione slightly went red as she noticed.

By the end of the class, Harry nervously moved to leave the classroom.

"Not so fast, Potter,'' Snape instructed to the Gryffindor. Hermione motioned for Harry to listen to their professor, waved, and quickly left. Harry shrugged, and moved to meet Snape.

"Potter," Snape growled, grabbing Harry by the collar and dragging him to a desk. He violently scribbled on a piece of parchment, thrusted it into Harry's hands, and walked into his office. Harry heard a door slam yet could still feel his professor's deadly stares. Harry slowly looked at his palm, and the note that it held. Begrudgingly, he read it.

_Detention._

_Fri-Sun, 7-10._

_Severus Snape._

Harry winced at his punishment. It was a bit extensive for his actions, and plus he had Quidditch practice. He was cruelly reminded that this was Snape and was just glad that the punishment wasn't any worse. He moved to grab his books, and slowly walked out of the class. He had a free period so he decided to head over to the common room. As he walked out of the door, Harry reminded himself that he should actually go to the library. He knew Ron and Lavender would take advantage of the free period and snog in the common room. He knew that Hermione would probably be avoiding them in the library, and he knew that he himself didn't want to watch the vivid show the two Gryffindors put on.

He turned to his right, and to his surprise he saw Hermione. She was waiting for him.

"How'd it go?" She asked, and began to lead Harry to the library.

"Here," and Harry handed her the parchment that described his punishment. Hermione read and grinned.

"What's so funny?" Harry demanded. "I'm missing Quidditch practice for this!"

"Next time you should take my advice and pay attention in class!"

"When did you tell me that?"

"In class. You looked liked your head was infested with Nargles, or something." And Hermione laughed.

Harry had been surprised by his best friends mood. For the past few days she had solemnly walked around the castle, angrily abusing her prefect duties in the name of strict justice. Yet, now she was laughing and grinning as if nothing had happened. _Girls_, Harry thought to himself.

"Sorry, Hermione. I didn't hear you."

"Men," she mentioned while shaking her head.

The two friends walked in silence. They passed suits of armor, paintings that were empty, paintings that had company, a few students, and of course, Peeves. Yet, the commute was peaceful. Typically as of late, a flustered atmosphere surrounded his friend and the two walked in awkward silence. However, this silence was nice. It was normal. It was comfortable. As if Ron had never hooked up with Lavender, as if Ron never existed. Instead of taking the moving staircase that would have led the two to the library, Hermione led Harry down two flights of stairs.

"Where we going?" Harry asked, as Hermione maneuvered him throughout the castle.

"The common room, of course," came her reply. She eyed him interestingly, and Harry knew that he was doomed to never understanding the opposite sex. They reached the Fat Lady after a few more minutes of walking-who had been napping.

"Umm—Hello?" Harry tried.

"Excuse me…" Hermione said.

The two looked at each other, and Hermione bursted into laughter. Harry could not understand what was so funny, but her laughter became contagious. Soon, the two were laughing together. Harry was glad that they shared this moment, it was good to have the old Hermione back again.

By now the Fat Lady was angrily glaring at the two students.

"Password?" She asked.

"Pumpkin Juice," Harry answered.

The two walked into the roaring common room. Hermione only slightly stiffened as she noticed Lavender happily seated in Ron's lap. Hermione slightly raised her chin higher, grabbed Harry's hand, and pulled him away. She brought him to his own common room and entered with him, pleased with Ron's wide-eyed response to the two heading upstairs.

"It smells in here," Hermione noted.

"Why are we even here?" Harry asked as Hermione whipped out her wand and cleansed the air with a charm. Making note of the state of Harry's section of the dorm, she swished her wand and watched as Harry's trunk and bed cleaned themselves.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, "I prefer it that way. It's _easier_."

She ignored his comment and threw herself on his bed. "Sorry, Harry. I just don't want to be down there. I thought I was ready…"

"It's alright, Hermione. Do you want to talk about it?" He knew that she didn't want to, she never did.

"Nah. I think I'm getting over him. There's someone else actually." Harry grinned as she turned slightly red and moved to sit next to her.

"Oh yeah?" Harry smiled and moved to sit next to his best friend. He waited for her response, listening to her gentle breaths and looking at her reddened face. Hermione mentally debated on whether or not she should tell him, and as she did so, the head of their house walked in.

"Potter—oh my! Hermione? What are you doing here? …Nevermind. I don't want to know! Pardon for the intrusion, but Dumbledore needs your assistance, Harry. Immediately." And McGonagall walked out before curiously eyeing her two students.

It was a cold Friday night, and Harry lay asleep in the common room. Ron hadn't been spending as much time with the trio as Hermione and Harry had hoped, but that was expected. Harry knew that Hermione was hurting, but he never meant anyone stronger than she, and Hermione was taking Ron's relationship pretty well. Harry had been spending much more time with Hermione—not that that was anything to complain about. He had spent every night for the past two weeks with Hermione in the common room. She'd typically read, and Harry found that he would as well.

Hermione sat by the fire reading her book on the Animagus. She took a brief hiatus from re-reading it, but as of late, the mystery was killing her. She'd figured that she could figure it out, and that Harry could possibly even help. So far, nothing had worked. She looked to her left, and saw Harry asleep. She slightly blushed as she reminisced about the last time they fell asleep together in the Gryffindor common room, hand in hand. She smiled and looked around the room lazily. Looking through the ancient and frosted windows, Hermione could tell that it was getting late. Later than expected. Most of the students had gone to bed, but she did notice a few seventh years studying in the corner.

She motioned to wake Harry, but found that incredibly difficult. Snape's detentions had proved mentally demanding and drained most of Harry's energy. Dumbledore took him out of two of the detentions for their special lessons, but knowing Snape, Harry had to serve detention the following week. She also knew that Quidditch had been hard on him as well.

"Harry…Harry wake up. Time to go to bed," Hermione said while shaking his shoulder "Come _on_, Harry!"

Harry groaned as he slowly woke.

"Come on sleepy head," Hermione giggled. "Need a hand?"

Harry sheepishly smiled and muttered a yes. She helped her friend up and slightly winced at the number of bones she heard crack.

"Tired?" She inquired. Harry did not respond, he simply shot her a glare and walked up to his dorm. Hermione heard Harry say good-bye and walked up to her own dorm. Hermione knew that she should be well rested for the next day. She was finally taking Harry to her home for her vacation the next day and couldn't help but smile.

"What's with the smile, Hermy?" Parvati called to Hermione. Hermione also knew that her relationship with Lavender was strained because of the shear amount of time the witch spent with her _Won Won._

"Just excited. Holiday." Hermione shrugged.

"Oh yeah? Big plans?" Came the response, Parvati was now sitting on her bed and motioned for her dorm mate to join her. Hermione found this odd; Parvati never made an attempt to discuss with her more than necessary. Nonetheless, Hermione figured that the witch was lonely and in need of a chat due to the fact that Lavender hadn't been sleeping in her dorm.

"Kind of. What about you?"

"Nothing really. My sister and I are staying here. Mum and Dad are going to India though. That would have been fun. So are you going home? Or vacation?"

"Well I'm going home. It's going to be great. Harry's going to join me."

"Really?" Parvati happily questioned. She was eager for Hermione to continue and motioned for her to continue. Hermione shrugged, she guessed that her dorm-mate just missed the gossip that Lavender constantly supplied her with. "Spill." Parvati continued.

Hermione could not explain why she blushed at the comment, but continued nonetheless.

"Well, he's got no where to go… and you know, we all worry about him. Usually he's with the Weasley's, or here with some company. This year he had nobody. I did not want him to be all-alone. Especially with—" But she never continued. She didn't think that speaking about Harry's political problems and safety was something that should be gossiped about.

"Please don't mention that name."

"I didn't."

"No. Not that one. Weasley." Parvati's whole body shivered as she said that name. "I can't believe he's dating Lavender."

"Me too," Hermione said, looking down to the floor.

"So there's nothing there?"

"Where?" Hermione asked, looking back at her fellow Gryffindor

"Potter." The response came with a large grin.

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione. Don't be so dense. You and Potter. Anything there?"

At that Hermione blushed, muttered a good night and tried to catch some sleep. Which would only come a few hours later.

The ride from Hogsmeade to King's Cross wasn't as great as Harry hoped it would be. In fact, most of it was horrible. He would have liked to have a peaceful ride, eat some sweets, and joke around a little. Apparently, that was too much to ask for.

He sat in a train compartment with a sleepy and moody Hermione, Ron was nowhere to be found.

Amidst the silence, Harry spoke. "Thanks again, Hermione. For the invitation, that is. I appreciate it."

"No problem." came the sharp reply.

"You okay? You seem a bit-"

"What Harry? What do I seem a bit? Huh?" she snapped, taking her eyes off of the window and onto Harry's. Harry was astonished with her response, she had been so easygoing the past few days.

"Sorry, Hermione…"

"No, no," she replied after some time, tears just forming in her eyes. "It's not your fault, Harry. It's me…"

"Well what's the matter?" Harry said, moving to sit next to his friend.

"Don't act like you don't know, Harry. You know what I have been going through. It's that bloody _won won_. I can't believe he's acting this way!" She hid back her tears, not wanting to let Harry see her cry over Ron. Harry was shocked. She had been taking it so well. What had happened since last night?

"It's okay. It'll be over soon. How long do you think this will last? Not very long." He pointed out.

"This is very unlike me, Harry." Hermione began "I don't know what's going on…"

"It's simple," Harry declared, grabbing onto her hand and looking into her eyes. "You fancy Ron, Merlin-knows-why, but you do."

At this, Hermione nodded and hugged her friend. She whispered a thanks into his ear, and continued to cling onto Harry. Needing to brighten up his friend, he didn't' move. Even despite his uncomfort.

"Ron's just being Ron. He'll come around eventually. He'll see how amazing you are, how beautiful you are, just wait. I promise."

Harry couldn't see, but Hermione smiled into the crook in Harry's neck. "Thanks, Harry…For everything." This wasn't really about Ron at all. It was that stupid conversation she had with Parvati last night. The one that kept her up all night, and brought out a serious epiphany: That she was in love with Harry.

"Besides," he added. "They're not even that serious. They just snog. It's not like they love each other. That would be ridiculous."

At that very moment, the compartment door slid open. Ron and Lavender practically fell in, hurriedly snogging and giggling. "I think I love you." Ron whispered, before going in for another kiss.

"Won Won!" Lavender giggled. "It looks like this compartment is taken." She pointed at Harry and Hermione, who were still embraced, and led her boyfriend out the compartment. Ron looked dumbfounded at his friends as he exited the compartment.

Harry sighed. He could feel Hermione's anger radiating off of her like a Hungarian Horntail.

"Umm, Hermione?" Harry laughed. "You okay? Head infested with Nargles or something?"

The two laughed as the train chugged on.

The door to the compartment opened while they were laughing, revealing a curious Ginny, Neville, and Luna.

"What's so funny, mate?" Neville questioned, stepping into the cart and sitting directly across from Harry and Hermione. "Mind if we sit? Ron and Lavender snuck into our compartment as we left for snacks, and well…it was awkward." He laughed.

"Sure thing." Harry gestured the other witches to sit down. He realized how close he was to Hermione, and scooted over. Where Hermione was once comfortably warm, she was now beginning to feel cold.

Luna sat by Neville, and Ginny decided to sit next to Harry. Hermione awkwardly coughed. "So what were you guys up to?" Ginny asked, looking at Harry.

"Oh, just talking, Gin."

"You know what." Hermione said before a response could come, "I'm going to change into my clothes. You should all probably change soon." She said matter-of-factly, "We're almost at King's Crossing, Harry. If I'm not back in time, just meet me wherever my parents are. Okay?"

Harry nodded as Hermione left, with Luna following her heel claiming that Hermione's head was in fact filled with Nargles. After some silence, Neville too left, stuttering about needing to speak with someone about something. He quickly left the compartment, letting the two be alone.

"Hello, Harry." Ginny said, holding onto Harry's hand.

_What is she doing? _Harry thought. He nervously replied, "Hello," and swallowed. Ginny got closer to Harry, if that was even possible, her hand moved to his thigh.

"I've been thinking." She purred, placing her head onto his shoulder.

"Y-yes?" Harry cursed himself for not being smoother.

"Well, It's been sometime since Dean and I split. It was just for fun anyways. But that's beside the point. The thing is, is that…I'm looking for something serious."

"Oh." Harry replied. She got off him, enabling her to look into his eyes.

"Do you trust me?" she asked. Harry nodded. "Close your eyes, Harry."

After a moment he obliged. His heart was pumping, the closeness of Ginny's careful breath on his skin made him shudder. Harry could feel her getting closer, her lips just inches from his.

"Harry," the door flung open. "Did you change yet? We're almost at King's—" The sight of the two of them made Hermione stop dead in her tracks; Harry and Ginny immediately separated.  
"Oh." she said, stepping back. "I'm—I'm sorry." The robed Hermione hurried out of the compartment, tears forming in her eyes.

"I should probably get changed." Harry nervously laughed after some time. Ginny placed her hand on his, asking him to stay with her.

"I can't. I have to meet Hermione, she's taking me home this Christmas."

"She's _what_?"

"Taking me home for Christmas."

"Harry she's obviously in love with you, you can't go with her."

"What're you talking about? She's _obviously _heartbroken about Ron."

"Yeah, but she just fancies him. She _loves _you, Harry. She always has, even if she doesn't know it. Everyone else can see it. You can't go, Harry."

"I have to." He replied, leaving the compartment to change into his robes and to find Hermione.

Hermione ran to an empty compartment. There were tears in her eyes. She sat down in the corner, alone. _Why am I crying?_She thought. _Why? It's just Harry… He's my friend. Why am I crying? This doesn't make any sense. I knew he and Ginny had something. So why am I crying?_

There was a knock on the door. Instantaneously, Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes. She was lucky she wasn't wearing any mascara. She stood up, and opened the sliding door to find Harry.

"Oh—Harry." She said, straightening her robes and avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Mind if I change into my clothes? This is the only available compartment." Harry said, allowing himself in.

"Uh, sure. Sure thing." Harry pulled his robe off. Underneath he had an undershirt and black slacks. Taking a button down shirt from a small bag, he began to put it on.

"What are you doing here? What about Ginny?" She asked, a tremendous load off of her heart.

"What about her? I came to find you, so we can meet with your parents." He was finished changing; Harry looked handsome. The train was pulling into King's Cross, and Hermione smiled as she sat back down. _He came to find me…_


	3. Chapter 3

_As always, please review!  
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_Any feedback and corrections are appreciated.  
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_Thanks to all those who seem to always review, you are awesome!_

Mr. Granger was a handsome man. He was an older gentleman, and his hair was just starting to show it. It was still a dark brown, and as thick as his daughter's, but a few grey hairs were becoming noticeable. Overall, he appeared to be a happy man. He had laugh marks on his face, and even if he was not currently smiling, you could see through his eyes that he was content. He stood suited at Kings Cross, alone, waiting for Hermione and their guest to go home. The Wizarding World always fascinated Mr. Granger. He was not surprised at all when Professor McGonagall came to his house to announce the news that his youngest daughter was a witch. He always knew that there was something _odd_ with his daughter, and he was glad that she was a witch and not emotionally unstable or something of that nature. Secretly he had always wished to be a wizard, and was a little disappointed that he was missing out on this life. He couldn't help but feel like an outcast. Pureblood families weaved through the crowds dressed in robes and carrying odds and ends. Mr. Granger saw students rushing to embrace with them, some robed others not.

Moments later, when Harry and Hermione found Mr. Granger after maneuvering through the wave of family members that rushed at the sight of the crimson train, the two saw Mr. Weasley bombarding him with questions. Mr. Granger was trying not to laugh when he was asked about cable.

"No, Arthur," Mr. Granger laughed. "Those are just special effects done through a computer. We don't hire any wizards for it—although, that's not too bad of an idea." Mr. Weasley was ecstatic, but before he could respond, he noticed Hermione and Harry.

"Ah," Mr. Weasley said to the duo, "Nice to see you both. I hear you're joining the Grangers for Christmas, Harry?"

Harry nodded and took both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Granger's hand. "Thanks for the offer," Harry said, while shaking Mr. Granger's hand, "It means a lot."

"You're welcome, Harry. And besides, how can we say no to our Hermione? You're all she ever writes about, anyways." he replied, while taking Hermione's bag and bringing her in for a hug.

"Dad," Hermione whined as her father kissed her head. Mr. Weasley said his goodbyes as Mr. Granger took a good look at his daughter. "You've grown!" He exclaimed and after another embrace, the three walked away. Hermione and her father were laughing at some old joke when Harry asked, "Excuse me, but where's Mrs. Granger?"

"She's in the car," came the monotonous reply from Mr. Granger. The three continued to walk onwards, Hermione and her father continuing to laugh, while Harry silently walked by their side. After moments of walking like this they finally reached the parking lot.

"Let me guess, dad," Hermione laughed, "parking space 12-B?"

"Precisely!" Her father laughed; Hermione quickly informed Harry about this quirky tradition the family had. He had tried to laugh.

As Hermione and Mr. Granger laughed their way to the car, Harry awkwardly joining them, they saw Mrs. Granger waving to the three. Harry could see more of Hermione in her mother than in her father. They shared the same hair, the same facial structure, and even the same comforting brown eyes. When the mother and daughter embraced in a hug, Harry and Mr. Granger placed the luggage in the trunk of the family's red Prius.

"Harry!" Mrs. Granger called, noticing her guest after her hug with her daughter. Closing the truck, Harry replied "Hello, Mrs. Granger." He offered her his hand, but she brought him in for a hug. "I'm a hugger, Harry."

"Okay you two," Mr. Granger warned when the hug lasted a little too long for his liking. Soon after he led his wife into the passenger seat. Hermione smiled at Harry, and entered the car as well. "Coming Harry?" She giggled, offering her hand to her friend.

"Okay, guys!" Mr. Granger exclaimed, "first we got to make a quick stop at the practice, then we can head home."

"Sure thing." Harry smiled; he was always excited to visit more of London.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione's mother spoke to Harry. "So," she had said, "how's Hogwarts, dear? Hermione has told us so much about it, the castle sounds fantastic, you guys are lucky to have these resources; I'd have to say my favorite subject is transfiguration, it just sounds brilliant…"

_I see where Hermione gets her speaking habits_. Before he had the chance to respond, she spoke again. "Oh, and how about your OWL's? How'd you do? Hermione spent weeks studying over the summer last year—"

She would have continued blabbering if her husband hadn't interrupted. "Emma, let the boy speak!" he laughed, yielding onto a highway.

"Well, Hogwarts is great. It is the greatest thing to ever happen to me in my life," Harry began, "and transfiguration is great too, if you know what you're doing. Hermione is actually one of the greatest in transfiguration. In fact, she's easily the top of her class." Hermione suddenly turned red. The Weasley clan would have been proud.

"I surprisingly did well on my OWL's. Naturally, your daughter helped." Hermione turned even redder. The conversation died down for a few minutes as Mr. and Mrs. Granger discussed in laughing hushed tones.

While her parents discussed—quite obnoxiously Hermione had though—Hermione turned to Harry.

"Excited?" She asked, smiling a genuine smile.

"Of course! This Christmas is going to be great!"

"Really? Thanks, Harry." Hermione said, resting her head on her friend's shoulder.

"Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you—and your parents. You all are the reason why I don't have to spend the holidays alone. Or worse. With the Dursleys."

"I know," she said, eyes closed and relaxed, "just accept that 'thanks,' would ya?"

Harry smiled at the comment. He looked through the passing scenery until his attention was diverted once more.

"So Harry," Mr. Granger started, after excitedly being nudged by his wife who had noticed her daughter's comfort with Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Granger?"

"Please, please, you're spending Christmas with us, call me Robb."

Harry turned to Hermione, who got off of him and nodded in approval. "Sure thing, Robb."

"I hear you competed in that Wizarding Tournament, or something. I hear you were bloody brilliant, I love sports myself."

The backseat of the car went quiet. Hermione kicked the back of her dad's seat and placed a hand on Harry's. "Dad…" she said, rather annoyed. "That is a…touchy subject."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Harry… I should've known. Hermione accounts for every detail in her letters… I should have remembered what happened…" Robb replied, looking at Harry through his mirror.

"No, no. It's okay, Mr. Granger—I mean Robb. It's fine." Harry quietly said. "Including the end… it was a mess. Can't believe a bloke like me made it past the first round."

"Bloke like you?" Mrs. Granger questioned. "Harry, I've heard so much about you. Quidditch, trolls, that You-Know-Who fellow… I'm not surprised you did so well."

"Thanks." Harry half-replied.

"Anyways," Mrs. Granger laughed, hoping to change the subject, "You have a girlfriend, Harry?" Hermione quickly coughed, and loudly stuttered, "M-Mo-Mother!"

"What, Hermione? Harry's a young man." Her father said with a nod.

"Yes, dear. And he's handsome, too. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a girlfriend. Although, if Hermione knew, we'd know too." Mrs. Granger said, winking to her husband.

"Oh, mum..." she said, burying herself into her hands.

"What? But really, Harry. Do you?" Hermione's mother replied.

"Umm. No. Not right now, Mrs. Granger." Harry said, getting red in the face.

"Emma, dear." Mrs. Granger reminded him.

"Okay… not right now Emma." Harry re-said, looking over to Hermione who had let go of his hand a moment ago and was hidden behind her hair and hands.

"Not even somebody special?" Mrs. Granger asked. She was facing him now as much as the car would allow her, she had an eager look in her eyes and nodded for an answer.

"Well. I don't know Mrs. Granger. I'm just always so busy. The last date I went on could not have been any worse."

"Really? Hermione didn't tell us anything about that." Mrs. Granger dramatically pouted at her daughter.

"It wasn't for me to tell. Not my business and all," Hermione shrugged.

Her mother waved a finger at her daughter and claimed that she was no fun. She looked at Harry and motioned for the boy to continue with his story. After he explained the circumstances with Cho Chang Mrs. Granger fell back into her seat. She eyed her husband, who clearly got the message.

"That's too bad. You know Hermione's single as well—"

"DAD!"

"What, Hermione? Oh grow up. I'm just stating the facts. Besides, your mother and I already approve of Harry, and you two would look adorable together. I'd much rather see you with someone like Harry over that Ronald, dear."

"Oh, mother… I'm so sorry, Harry."

"What's there to be sorry for? If you don't like him your sister can have him." Mrs. Granger teased her daughter, hitting a nerve. Harry was shocked. He didn't even know that his best friend _had_ a sister. It wasn't like she ever told him, but then again, he had never asked. He cursed himself for being stupid and such a lousy friend.

"Hey!" Robb excitedly said. "We're almost at the practice, Harry. You see that building over there? Aint she brilliant."

"Which one's it, Mr. Granger?" Harry asked his friend's father, eagerly looking out his window for the practice.

"The only one with the Dentistry symbol, where else would it be?" Mr. Granger asked, slightly annoyed and pointing a finger.

"Sorry Mr. Granger," Harry shrugged. "I've never been to a dentist. I wouldn't know what that looked like."

Instantaneously the car stopped. Harry felt the inertia take hold of his body and send his person forward. He was happy that Hermione had reminded Harry to put on a seatbelt earlier. With his luck, he knew he would have been sent out the window or something. While rubbing his neck Harry looked up only to find both of Hermione's parents looking at him with shock. Harry humored himself by imagining a Golden Snitch in both of their mouths. He looked to Hermione who had also been slightly shocked.

"Y-you've never been to a Dentist?" Mr. Granger asked wide-eyed. His knuckles were white from clutching onto the steering wheel and several horns beeping encouraged him to continue driving and to pull into his personal parking space.

"I was never taken," Harry confirmed as they all once again turned to watch him after Mr. Granger had finished parking.

"Which idiot decided this?" Mr. Granger snapped. He was becoming angrier and Harry could tell. He hurriedly un-clicked his seatbelt and slammed his door, all the while muttering to himself about people never visiting a Dentistry.

Harry's mood became almost as sour as rotten pumpkin juice. He had decided to join the Grangers to forget about his horrible family, not to be reminded of them. Lost in thought, Harry did not realize that he was the only one left in the car until the sound of Mrs. Granger's door slamming disturbed his state of mind. He slowly got out and rushed to catch up to the Granger clan.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to be rude or anything. It's just that everyone should visit a dentist. It's almost unnatural that people don't." He patted Harry on the back and left it there as they walked. The short walk was pleasant as Harry began to calm down. It was a sunny day and Harry could feel the sun embrace his skin as if they were old friends. The sounds of cars passing, and strangers walking to and fro left a smile on the boy's face. He decided that he liked cities much more than suburbs and hoped to one day rent a flat in the heart of London.

All the while, he took Hermione's quietness and stiffness into consideration. She continually glanced at him, as if she were his mother and he a hurt child, and her father with anger. Harry deduced that Hermione must have reminded her father of Harry's situation; Mrs. Granger also put in an extra effort to smile at the boy, even though Harry could tell that she seemed distressed.

The four quickly reached the practice and Mr. Granger held the door for them all. "In here," he had laughed, "you refer to me as 'Dr.'" Her wife eyed him and he continued to laugh. Obviously it was some joke between the husband and wife. Harry didn't know what to expect when he walked into the Dentistry. He had never even been inside one, and from what Dudley had told him, it was a horrid place. However, the place did not seem as terrifying and gloomy as Dudley made it out to be. They walked through a small hallway that had several doors on Harry's right-hand side. When the hall ended, a medium sized room was exposed. It was well lit, had several chairs, which Harry reasoned where for the waiting patients, a few scattered plants, and even more paintings that occupied the walls. A secretary had welcomed them and placed a few documents into Dr. Granger's awaiting hand.

His hand grabbed at the folder and his face scrunched up when he looked at the contents. Mrs. Granger and Hermione walked over to Harry who had been inspecting a rather interesting painting.

"You like that, Harry?"

Caught of guard, Harry slowly turned his head and lazily expressed his admiration for the painting. "I don't know much about art though…" Harry embarrassingly said, turning slightly red.

"What do you think it is?"

Harry shook his head, "I have no idea. It looks like an explosion of emeralds. It's quite nice."

"Do you know who it's by?"

Harry searched his mind for every painter who had ever heard. He was pretty sure he could have named at least three, but when he truly thought about it, the only artist's name that he could remember was Picasso. He remembered how the Dursleys had hated Picasso. "That's not art," Vernon exclaimed one afternoon after reading an article on the anniversary of his death. "A three year old could do that!"

"I'd have no clue. Picasso?" Harry laughed.

He turned to look at Hermione and her mother. He noticed that his friend was nervously fidgeting with her hair. "I-I made it," she said when Harry was finished. She blushed, looking at everything but her friend.

"Whoa! Hermione, it's great! I had no clue you could paint. Why didn't you ever tell me? Heck, I should have asked. What is it anyway?"

"It's something I made last year, during holiday—"

"That wasn't his question," her mother interrupted. Hermione shot daggers at her mother as she calmly left towards her husband.

"It's…umm, an abstractish impressionist piece. If you look closely…it's, umm…well, you see it's a funny story, really. I got the inspiration from how greatly you taught the D.A., and well…it's of you." Hermione blushed. "You can see your patronus, if you really look hard enough."

Harry looked to the painting, turned his head to the side and squinted. "I don't know about _that_, Hermione. I _do_ see an elephant." He looked at her playfully and laughed until tears began to form at his friends wide-eyed expression.

"I was joking," he said, still chuckling and smiling.

She smacked his arm with a wry smile and walked away. She glanced back once to give him a playful pointed look, but saw that he two left the painting and was now approaching her father and mother. Slightly worried of Harry being with her parents without her, she decided to join them.

"Whoa, what's that?" Harry pointed to a tank that served as a centerpiece for a magazine littered table. Hermione saw her father smile one of his trademarked smiles as he introduced Harry to the Dentistry's snake, Tyrannosaurus.

"You like snakes, Harry? She's a Milk Snake. Had her since we first opened up twelve years ago. She kind of became our mascot. I little unorthodox yes, but Tyrannosaurus surely is memorable. We get people in here just because we're known as "that practice with the snake." Ha!"

Harry silently walked closer to the snake, observing its beauty. Harry had always liked snakes. He guessed that it had something to do with being a parseltongue, but shrugged it off. Harry admired the beauty of the snake, its red and white stripes boldly marked the serpent's skin beautifully. Tyrannosaurus began to rise in a crisscross fashion.

Tyrannosaurus' piercing eyes met with the emerald of Harry's. The snake nodded, and spoke. "_Hi-ya. Howsss about sssome food?"_

"Like what?" Harry found himself replying while searching for anything the snake might eat. He laughed at the image of himself actually producing something that a snake would eat from his pocket.

"_Sssome of those tassstey micesss."_

"Ahh," came Harry's hissed reply, "_I'll get you some—"_

"Hey!"she interrupted, shifted slightly to the left in order to get a better look at Harry, "_Where have I ssseen you beforesss?"_ Harry shrugged in response.

"_I knowsss, isssn't that you in young misssesss' painting?"_

Harry quickly snapped his neck to take a look at Hermione's painting once more. He just _couldn't _see it. Maybe his vision was worse than he thought.

"_I wouldn't know."_

Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood in shock as they witnessed the interaction between their pet snake and Harry. The looked at one another when the whispers and the echoing of sharp hissing became louder and instantly looked to their daughter for an explanation.

"What?" their daughter had questioned.

"Is…Is Harry _talking_ to T-Rex?"

Hermione shrugged and eyed her parents curiously. "I told you he was a Parseltonque during my Second Year. "

"Yes, you told us that he was a parsel-whatever, but you never cared to explain what that meant. Your mother and I didn't want to look stupid asking about it," Mr. Granger blushed.

"What _are_ they talking about?" Mrs. Granger whispered with a dramatic hand brought forth to cover her lips from Harry.

"How should I know? Let me ask him."

Hermione proceeded to call her friend. Harry had exclaimed that the Grangers were fortunate to have purchased such a witty snake. He also mentioned that the snake was hungry, and that if she were anymore hungry she'd break forth from her cage and snack on the secretary." Harry had laughed. The Grangers hadn't seemed to find it funny; the brunette secretary quickly scurried like a mouse to retrieve a few mice for the inpatient T-Rex.

"Alright, Harry. You've had your fun. It's time for a check-up."

"A-a check up, Dr. Granger?"

Hermione's dad smiled playfully, "Oh it won't hurt. Much."

"I can't believe that just happened…" Harry said, shaking his head as he walked with Hermione to her family's car.

"It wasn't _that_ bad Harry," Hermione replied, laughing as she patted him on the back.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "They checked my teeth!"

The two laughed as they reached the car. Hermione's parents—who were very satisfied with Harry's results ("especially for a man who has _never_ been to the dentist!" Robb beamed with satisfaction during the check-up)—were trailing behind, and also laughing.

"Just got to make sure my daughter's friends all have nice teeth, is all," Robb laughed as he opened the door for his wife.

"It's no big deal, Harry. We do this to all of Hermione's friends…well, at least we used to," Emma said, buckling in her seatbelt and smiling at her guest through the car's mirror.

They drove through more of London; Harry was astonished with the city. He always was. They passed through shops, cafes, and even more shops. After another half hour of heavy traffic and corny jokes complimentary from Hermione's dad, they reached the Granger residence.

It wasn't what Harry expected, but he could easily tell that it was a comfy, happy home. The slim apartment was white, and in between two identical apartments. The only thing that distinguished Hermione's from the others was the silver "73" upon her mailbox and red door.

Hermione happily sighed as she ran up the steps to her home, stopping to smell the flowers. "Good to be home," she said to herself, smiling to her parents and Harry.

"What a lovely day, too." Mrs. Granger sung as she opened the door to their home.

"Don't speak too soon, dear." Her husband replied, "You never know with this bloody weather."

"Oh hi Hermy!" Harry heard a stranger's voice call as he witnessed one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen embrace his friend eagerly. The two shared the same bushy hair, although this stranger's was seemingly less wild, creating the appearance of one giant bush of hair. Harry laughed.

"Oh, and who is this?" the young lady seductively called as she moved to say hello to Harry.

"It's Harry, _my _friend." Hermione quickly spat after eying this girl trace a finger across Harry's chest. Harry was goofily smiling and Hermione wanted nothing more than to slap that stupid grin off of his face.

"Well, I'm Elizabeth. Call me Liz. I'm Hermione's _older_ sister," the pretty girl smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

_So sorry for all those who actually read this, I understand that I haven't been updating recently. I'm not going to give any excuses, but I am finally (almost) done with high school. Hopefully I will be a much active writer._

I also had to publish a collection of short stories for my senior project. If anyone is interested in sci-fi/fantasy, you can check out my book on Amazon.

_As always review! They inspire me to continue writing._

The Granger's residence was large enough in size to more-than-comfortably house the five current residents. The home was separated by three floors, all the same size with the exception of the last. There was Hermione's room, and it was dominated with books. Dark-wooded bookcases that ran from floor to ceiling covered three of her four walls. A bed took half of the bare-wall, and an old desk lay two feet from it. Above the desk was the only window which light was permitted through. There was no way of knowing whether or not the room had any more windows thanks to Hermione's custom-made bookcases. Like the second floor of the house, which housed the rest of the Granger's, the floor was carpeted and as soft as a carpet could get. The first floor of the house consisted of a kitchen, living room, and a half-bathroom. Directly across from the entrance to the house was the back door, which led to a wonderfully groomed garden. The outside space had a few spaced out chairs and a grill that had only been used twice.

Overall, Harry thought the house was beautiful and exactly what a muggle house should look and feel like. The Granger's were cleanly and kept their home in good shape, but they were no where near the level of cleanliness his aunt Petunia demanded—which was just fine with Harry. Perfect really.

He had told his hosts how lovely their house was, and had a short-lived conversation with Hermione's strikingly beautiful sister. Elizabeth was slightly taller than her sister and had a more defined body. Where Hermione dressed modestly, her sister did not. The two contrasted each other radically, therefore bringing out certain traits in his friend and her sister that Harry never truly noticed. The two seemed to be constant juxtapositions of one another, besides their shared hair that is. Now Dr. Granger was leading Harry through the house for a tour, and naturally, the entire family followed, commenting every once and a while whenever the Granger patriarch forget to mention some askew detail about this or that. It felt well-rehearsed to Harry, who grinned every now and then when one of the women would mention "Dad, you forget to tell him about how you almost broke your neck installing that light," or "Honey, what about that painting? Harry'd like that painting."

Hermione was laughing at some nostalgic joke her father told Harry as they began to ascend the staircase when Liz held Harry back for a moment.

"So Harry," she began. "I've heard a lot about you, like you have no idea how much I've heard about you from my sister's letters home. Anyways, I just have a quick question."

He looked at his hand which Elizabeth still hadn't let go of, and then at her. He nodded in response as his eyes met hers.

"Well, it's just that—"

"Harry are you coming?" Mrs. Granger interrupted. Harry looked to the top of the carpeted stairs and there he saw the Granger family, excluding the sister whose hand still held his, waiting for the two.

"Coming," Harry said. He began his way back up the stairs and quickly turned to face his best friend's sister. "Can it wait?" he asked, pointing to the family that waited for his presence at the top of the stairs.

"Sure, sure. Go ahead," she awkwardly laughed.

The tour immediately took off where it stopped as Harry reached the top of the stairs. He was led through the rooms that covered the second floor. There was a full bathroom and three bedrooms. The largest belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Granger; it was modern and sheltered a small bookcase. The smallest bedroom would be Harry's for the break. He thanked the Grangers once more, as he wasn't expecting his own room. It had a small-sized closet and a window that overlooked the Granger garden and the bustling streets of London. He found that his bags were already placed on his bed. The last room belonged to Elizabeth, and Mrs. Granger insisted that the room be skipped. She had told Harry that her daughter wasn't the cleanliness and that the room was not ready for viewing. He laughed to himself. The Granger's really did take their tour-of-the-house seriously.

Hermione was silent for the remainder of the tour. She would throw odd glances at Harry now and then, and even more murderous ones at her sister. Harry noticed these looks and wondered just what was happening with his best friend. She had seemed extremely involved during the first half of the tour, and now she was as silent as Harry had ever seen her. He made a mental note to ask her about her odd behavior around her sister later.

The tour had finished after Harry was shown Hermione's room. Mrs. Granger eyed her oldest daughter as they entered the room; _this_ is how you manage a room her eyes seemed to say as they rose.

The family and Harry were now heading back down the two flights of stairs to go back to the main floor. Mrs. Granger told everyone that Dinner would be served within the hour and asked if Elizabeth would be joining them.

"All my friends are gone for the holiday," she shrugged. "Plus, I want to hear everything Hermione has to say about Hogwarts just as much as you do."

Her mother nodded and worked her way into the kitchen. She began cooking and the smell of chicken worked its way through the house, permeating into each room.

"You want to get some work done, Harry?" Hermione asked her friend. She had her arm into her bag elbow-deep and produced a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

"Oh come on Hermy. You two just got out of school. Relax. Go for a walk. Do anything besides studying, for the sake of Harry." Elizabeth butted in, lazily sinking into an armchair. She had a muggle magazine in hand and spoke without looking up from it.

"How would you know what Harry would like to do?" Hermione angrily said, shutting her textbook to look at her nonchalant sister.

"I wouldn't. But he's a boy, and I'm pretty sure all boys are the same. Wizard or not."

Hermione had no reply. She once again opened her book and looked to Harry, eyebrows raised in question.

"How much work do we have, Hermione?"

"Plenty. _If _we start now and work at a steady pace we should finish by Monday. Then we can start working on additional assignments."

Harry's eyes widely opened. He knew Hermione would want to study during the break, but he also expected to have some fun too. "Don't kill the boy, Hermione," Mr. Granger said while walking in. He too sat in an armchair and began to unfold his newspaper. "I'm sure Harry would like to have some fun too. Have you seen been to London, Harry?"

Harry heard his friend sigh and turned to look at her father. "Not really, sir. I was never really allowed—I mean, I never really had the opportunity to visit."

"We'll make sure you have a few nights off from your work then." Mr. Granger's smiled genuinely as he spoke.

"I'll show him around if he wants," Elizabeth said from behind her magazine. She flipped a page and looked up at Harry.

"Wonderful, you can bond with your sister while you're at it," her father replied. He opened up his newspaper and weakly added an almost inaudible "Lord knows you two need it."

"Why don't we study upstairs in my room, Harry?" Hermione stood up and offered him a hand. Harry's hand reached for Hermione's and was pulled up. He looked at Robb and Liz and nodded a temporary farewell. The two Hogwarts students headed for the stairs and made their way up to Hermione's room.

"Thanks for inviting me over," Harry said. They were in Hermione's room. She pulled out a chair for Harry and sat in her own at her desk. "Yeah no problem," came her sharp reply.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked. He sat down and scooted near her desk. Hermione was pulling out book after book from her desk and was setting aside ink and quill.

"Nothing," she said as she began to pull out rolls of parchment. She wouldn't look Harry in the eye and she reached into her bag once more to pull out a small, wrapped piece of chocolate.

"Nothing? Come on Hermione, I know you a lot better than that." Hermione broke the chocolate in half and handed a half to Harry. He thanked her, and she nodded in response.

"Really, Harry. It's nothing." She finally looked at him. He could feel something different about her. He wasn't sure if it was anger, or something else entirely. All Harry knew was that something was radically different with his best friend. He assumed it to be her sister, but he bit his tongue. He chose to save those questions for later, _just what was wrong with their relationship?_ Elizabeth seemed nice enough to Harry, he couldn't understand why the two wouldn't get along.

"Are you sure?" he finally asked as the two were beginning to turn the pages of Hermione's textbooks.

"Absolutely positive. Now let's get started, we have a lot to do." Harry nodded and the two began to work.

They were steadily working when Elizabeth walked into Hermione's room. She casually leaned against the frame of the door and announced that dinner was ready. Harry put down his charms book and rubbed his eyes. He stood, put his glasses back on, and walked to the door. "Coming, Hermione?" He laughed. Her hand was furiously writing her DADA essay.

"I'll be down in a second. I need to finish this paragraph."

Harry and Elizabeth headed for the kitchen when she spoke. "Ever think about getting contact lenses?"

"What are those?" He stopped on the stairs to look at the trailing girl.

"Really? Never heard of 'em? Well, they're these really cool lenses that people put on their eyes so they don't have to wear glasses. You can't even notice the lenses, unless you get an odd color or something."

They were walking down the stairs side by side now. "Sounds pretty cool. I've pretty much had these glasses my whole life."

"You should buy a pair. You look much better without your glasses, Harry." She jumped down the last few stairs and spun not so elegantly as she landed. She was laughing as Harry clapped and jokingly bowed to his applause. _This is Hermione's sister?_ He silently laughed at their differences and let Elizabeth lead him to the table. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already sitting at the table. Their plates were empty and in front of them lay dinner: Lemon grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, and white rice.

"Where's Hermione?" Mrs. Granger inquired.

"Oh, she's just finishing up a paragraph for our Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She should be down any minute." He sat down next to Mr. Granger, who had offered him the seat.

"It smells lovely," Harry said.

Mrs. Granger smiled warmly and told him about the dish. "We all have to eat healthy, to encourage my husband."

"I can't help it. I love food." Mr. Granger smiled.

"No you love _junk_ food. I swear, you're the only dentist with a sweat tooth," Hermione said as she entered the room. With Hermione finally at the table, dinner officially began. Everyone began to pass around the plates of food and happily dug in.

"Honey, you have outdone yourself with this chicken. So much flavor!" Mr. Granger exclaimed after the first bite. His wife eyed him and raised a fork. "Stop sucking up to me. You're not having any cake," she said.

"It was worth a try," came her husband's reply and the family laughed.

To Harry's surprise, Hermione was oddly back to her normal self. _Girls_. She was laughing at her father's antics and stories and even held a conversation with her sister. Everyone else noticed Hermione's change in behavior, but no one commented on it in an attempt to keep her happy.

"So let's hear about this school that's stolen my sister away from me," Elizabeth called out to Harry and Hermione as she cut her chicken. Hermione's parents mumbled their agreements as they swallowed their food.

"Well what do you want to hear?" Hermione asked, looking from her sister to her parents.

"Everything. Anything, Hermione," Liz said.

"Well I could tell you about you my classes for a starter, but I always write about those."

Hermione's mother smiled and spoke. "Correction, you always write about your classes _and_ Harry."

Hermione's face turned a shade of red that could give a Weasley a run for their money. "I'm just joking, Hermione. No need to take it seriously. How's Ron doing?"

"He's gotten himself a girlfriend," Harry laughed. "I don't know _how_ it happened Mrs. Granger."

"Is she pretty?" Elizabeth asked. She sat next to Harry and had turned to ask him. Harry looked to Hermione—who sat across from him at the table—to read her expression. He wasn't sure how things were with her and Ron anymore. He always knew that she had slightly fancied him, though he never truly knew why.

"It depends who you asked," he said. "Loads of guys think she's pretty."

Mrs. Granger looked to her guest and asked, "What about you? Do you think she's pretty?"

"Sure she's pretty, but she annoys the magic out of me."

"Good answer," Mrs. Granger winked.

Dinner went by and mostly focused on Harry. The Granger's would ask about his times and adventures at Hogwarts. Hermione would help answer every once in a while, and they both left out the more dangerous details that would surely worry the Grangers. They talked about Quidditch, which Mr. Granger greatly enjoyed. Harry explained the rules and plays to the family; they all seemed impressed with the game and Harry.

"I've got to see this game," Mr. Granger exclaimed as Hermione recalled the first time Harry had caught the snitch—in his mouth. She had explained every detail perfectly, and everyone gladly listened. Harry vowed to show the Grangers his broom and a few tricks before he left.

At first Harry disliked talking so much about himself, but as the dinner progressed, he found that he liked that the Grangers were impressed with his accomplishments and not that he was just the famous Harry Potter. He doubted that they even knew about his icon status.

As the conversation and dinner waned, Mr. Granger attempted to steer the conversation once more before dinner was officially over. "What's this Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment of yours, Hermione?" he had asked.

"Just an essay on the unforgivables and how they came to be illegal."

"The unforgivables? What's that?" Elizabeth asked, leaning closer to her sister in pure interest.

"The unforgivable curses: The most cruelest curses known to magic."

"What are they?

"The most cruelest curses known to magic," Harry dimly repeated. Hermione nodded her head in agreement. She continued from where Harry left off, "two words can kill a person. And there's no real defense against it. And that's only one of the curses, there are three."

"What do you mean no real defense?" Mr. Granger asked. He seemed interested in the subject, but genuinely concerned for his daughter's safety. Hermione looked at Harry, and nervously bit her lip. Harry didn't seem to be mentally at the table at all, he was drifted off into some unknown region of his mind. Hermione sighed and explained to her family.

"Only one person has survived the Killing Curse," she didn't feel proud about revealing Harry's past, but yet again, she didn't explain that the only person in existence to live after meeting that curse was sitting right across from her, yet.

"Really? One person? Must've been an extremely powerful wizard or something, what do you think honey?" Mr. Granger said, he turned to look at his wife and she nodded in agreement. They were both worried about the safety of their daughter, they always were. The husband and wife had no clue about the unforgivables. They made the couple uneasy.

"Well that person was a baby," Harry said. He looked at Hermione, and she saw the hurt in his eyes. It had always been painful for Harry whenever he spoke about his past. Hermione was not even sure if she the half of his experiences with the aunt and uncle.

"A baby? How can a baby live after that?" Liz asked Harry. Harry shrugged and continued to look downward. "Maybe we should talk about something else. Any desert, mum?" Hermione awkwardly asked. No one seamed eager to answer her question; they were all interested in the survivor of the curse, and the fact that he or she was an infant.

"Well who was it? Merlin? Dumbledore?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Neither of those, surprisingly," Hermione began. She looked to Harry for his consent. He seemed ashamed, but he eventually relented. "Actually. The only person to survive the Killing Curse is…well, he's sitting right there." She pointed to Harry, and she felt ashamed. Her heart knew it wasn't right talking about Harry's emotional past so casually, she knew it wasn't fair to her best friend.

The table grew awkwardly quiet. "Well how about that desert, honey?" Mr. Granger finally asked his wife.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter. _

_As always review if you like something, review if you don't, review if you find a mistake (which I am sure exist), and just review for the sake of reviewing!_

_The next chapter should be up in a few days._

_Thanks,_

'_til next time._

Dinner was over, and so was the night. Harry and Hermione helped the rest of the Grangers clean up the table and afterwards, the two continued their studies. Hermione was able to finish her DADA essay, the reading for potions and an outline on the paper needed for the same class. Harry managed to also do the reading for potions. He also completed his potions assignment, but failed to start his DADA essay. His friend tried to convince him that the work would not be too bad, but he really was in no mood to complete an essay—during holiday. On the positive side, Harry thought to himself as he departed from Hermione for the night, he got more work done than he originally thought he would. Harry found that this was usually true when he worked alongside Hermione without his other hot-tempered best friend. He mentally calculated that he would only need another full day of work in order to complete his assignments. However, this calculation omitted the additional work that Hermione was so avid on doing. Harry was not looking forward to the bonus work.

He silently descended the stairs in an attempt not to wake the rest of the Grangers, like a mouse scurrying through a summer night's field. Harry met the halfway point of the stairs when he fell. His foot tangled with a shirt Harry swore was never there and violently landed on his behind with a _thump_. He was lucky that the stairs were carpeted, because he really did not wish to wake his hosts nor hurt himself too much in the process. Luckily, the noise of his landing was not loud enough to wake Mr. and Mrs. Granger. However, it did catch the attention of Hermione's sister.

Liz thought of herself as an owl. Not just because she thought they were beautiful, but also because she enjoyed staying up late. Really late. She was blessed with her own television, which she often used. Liz was watching late-night music videos when she heard the thump from Harry's fall. She instantly kicked the sheets off of herself and stood up, prepared to deal with any intruders like the hot head she was.

Barefooted, Liz left her room in order to investigate. She was guarded with her trusty television remote—In case she needed to whack a robber or two. She passed her parents' bedroom when she saw the sight of Harry rubbing his butt and clutching onto a purple shirt that Liz had forgotten to put away. Liz couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry Harry," she managed in between laughs, "I meant to give that back to Hermione, but just ended up leaving it on the stairs." Hermione's older sister continued to laugh. Her armed-and-ready hand fell to her side, and she made towards Harry, grabbing the shirt and assisting him down the stairs.

"Thanks," Harry quietly said to the girl. It was still dark, and he would have missed the pair of jeans that also occupied a step without the help from Liz. Within the next few seconds, the two were safely on the ground in one piece.

"What were you doing up there anyways, Harry?" she eagerly questioned. Her arms were crossed and her eyebrows were raised, almost exactly the way Hermione did. Harry noticed that she was lazily wearing pajamas. She had on a pair of pajama bottoms, a tank top, and a pajama top that was only messily buttoned once in the middle. Hermione would have never allowed herself to dress in such a way Harry thought to himself.

"Just studying with your sister, managed to get a lot done actually. Well, I always get a lot done when I work with your sister. She really _motivates_ me and Ron." Harry replied. Liz looked Harry up and down for a silent moment, mentally debating whether or not he was telling the truth. After an incredibly awkward moment for Harry, she immediately perked up and said, "Okay." Harry never truly understood females, and doubted that he ever would. _Whatever just happened in this girl's mind, I will never know_ Harry finally decided.

Liz set a painfully slow pace for the two as they made their way across the hallway. They passed a mirror where upon taking in the image of herself, Liz turned away to fix her pajamas. Harry felt a tad more comfortable as she did so. He also hoped that his face was not red.

"Going to bed?" Liz asked as the two reached the door to Harry's room. "I don't know yet. I'm not too tired actually," Harry said as he opened his door. Liz took it upon herself to enter first. She turned the light on and walked over to sit on his bed. "Yeah me too," she started, "I usually don't sleep much anyways. Well, at night that is." She smiled as she looked at Harry, and then around the room. "You know, Hermione and I used to always play in here when were children. We never had too many guests over, so we liked to use it to play pirates."

"Pirates?" Harry chuckled. "Hermione used to play pirates?"

"Of course! She and I used to play plenty of games together. Pirates was just one of our favorites. We would sit on this very same bed and pretend it was our boat. Hermione was always bossy, naturally. But we always got along. I just don't know anymore. We used to be so close, and then she started getting older and smarter and… well, she just stopped playing with me."

"I would have loved to see Hermione playing a game."

"Yeah it was fun. She used to do the best impersonation of Captain Hook."

"Now you're just making stuff up," Harry cried out in laughter.

"No I am not Harry Potter!" She took the same tone of voice that Hermione typically reserved for scolding Harry and Ron whenever they slacked or had gotten into trouble with Snape. "She was always reminding me of the rules, I'll give you that."

"Now that sounds like Hermione to me." The two shared a laugh.

"Do you want to watch some TV with me?" Liz asked Harry as the laughter subsided. She was fiddling with a strand of string from the bed's sheet as she asked and waited for Harry's response.

"That depends," came Harry's reply. Liz was now standing and smoothing out the bed where she had been sitting, giving Harry the obvious view of her backside as she did so. "Depends on what?" She turned her head to look at Harry, she was still bent over and her eyebrows were raised. _She must be completely oblivious to what she's doing to me… _Harry decided at last.

Harry swallowed at the sight and gave the smiling Liz an answer: "I get to choose the channel."

"Someone's bossy," Liz laughed out, "It must have rubbed off from my sister." She was now erect and facing the wizard, her lips were curved upward into a smile. She hadn't laughed like this a long time, a very long time. She was happy that she could act so comfortably in front of her sister's best friend. It would help mend their relationship she decided, and it never hurt to befriend cute boys.

As she thought about her knew friend, she was reminded of his secret. Her eyes couldn't help but look up to the peculiar scar on the man's forehead. She knew that she shouldn't after her family discovered its origin, but she couldn't help but take a look. How can one man, no a baby, survive this killing curse she'd heard about. Hermione's letters home to her sister always revealed slightly more than the ones addressed to her parents, so she knew of Harry's courage, strength, and bravery, but she just could not manage to wrap her head around how powerful a person had to be in order to survive a blow from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In her mind, she figured that Harry had to be the most powerful wizard alive, even more so than Merlin. He was the hero in all of the stories she loved while growing up. He was some sort of living fantasy.

She always found Harry interesting—even before meeting the dark haired boy; Hermione's letters were always very insightful and detailed. Over the years, she found herself wanted to know more about this wizard, and this was finally her chance to do so.

"Morning sleepy head." The voice was soft. The voice was happy. It was as gentle as a single drop of water making its way from leaf to leaf as it fell to the ground. It was as rich as the finest chocolate available at Honeydukes. And it belonged to Liz.

Harry sat up from the floor. He was in her room and the television was on. An advertisement for a colorful new cereal was just finishing and the echo of "…are for kids!" could be heard throughout Liz's messy room. She was looking at him from the edge of her bed; she was lying on her back and her head was placed where her feet should have been. She was smiling. Harry remembered how he went with Liz to watch television and chat, but he never remembered falling asleep on her floor. His neck was slightly stiff and he was slightly upset that he fell asleep in his new clothes.

"How's your ass?" Liz questioned with a laugh.

"Just fine, thank you very much. How'd I end up here on the floor?" Harry asked. He cracked his neck twice and stood up to stretch.

"Yes Harry, how did you end up on the floor?"

Harry looked back to see a scowling Hermione. She was dressed and ready for the day (and it seemed to Harry that it would already be a long one). Liz stood up to confront her sister. "Oh calm down," she said. "He couldn't sleep, so we ended up watching TV together."

Hermione seemed displeased that her sister was doing all of the talking. She gave Harry a look, asking with her eyes if what her sister said had been true. Harry really didn't want to upset his friend, and thought that the best way to handle the situation was to distract her from the awkward encounter.

"Yeah Hermione it's true. Have you ever seen that one cartoon? What's it called Elizabeth? No the one with the yellow people… Yes! That was it: The Simpsons. Have you ever watched that Hermione? It's bloody brilliant. You know I never really got to watch television when I was a kid, so that was really nice of your sister."

"Yes extremely," came Hermione's response. She eyed her sister one more time before announcing that Harry should wash up and prepare himself for breakfast. Not wanting to cause any problems, Harry obliged. He walked out of the girl's room with Hermione, she led him to his own room.

"You really shouldn't be upset with your sister, Hermione. She was just being friendly with me."

"A little _too_ friendly," Hermione said under her breath.

"Oh come on," Harry sighed. "She isn't that bad. I don't know why you have your differences with her, but she can't be that bad."

"I know Harry. It's just that…oh never mind. Why don't you get yourself ready, I'll be waiting for you downstairs." She put on a smile, for Harry's sake, and turned to leave. Harry reached for her hand before she could however. He spun her into a hug and thanked her one last time for the invite, in the hopes of making Hermione less angry.

"We're really going to have a lot of fun."

At this Hermione could not help but genuinely smile. She had her issues with her sister, but she promised herself that she wouldn't let it ruin her time with Harry any longer. It wasn't everyday that she got to spend quality time with her best friend away from Hogwarts.

"Thanks Harry," Hermione responded. She hugged him back and closed her eyes for a moment, glad that Harry accepted her invite. When she pulled away she pointed out that they would get their work done too, and she scurried down the stairs. Harry couldn't help but laugh at his friend: Hermione would never change.

He entered his room, and shut the door. He quickly took his shirt off, and then his pants. He had put his clothes away the night before, so Harry walked over to the drawers and selected his clothes for the day. It was a cold, so he decided on a pair of jeans and the sweater Mrs. Weasley knitted for him last Christmas. Luckily he hadn't grown too much since the previous year, so the sweater fit perfectly. He laughed at the large maroon H that dominated the front side of the sweater, remembering the first time Mrs. Weasley had made him a Christmas sweater.

He was in the process of putting his pants on when he heard the room to his door open. In a quick attempt to put his jeans on to avoid any embarrassment, Harry slipped and fell to the ground.

"Harry, we just wanted to know if you—Oh my!"

Hermione stood next to her mother in Harry's room. Mrs. Granger's mouth was covered with her hand, and the two tried desperately not to laugh. In their guest room, right in front of their eyes, Harry lied on the ground revealing his ducky boxers. He was desperately squirming in an attempt to pull his jeans up and the women were awkwardly chuckling.

"We are _so_ sorry, Harry" Hermione said while trying to hide her own laughter from her best friend. The two women backed out of the room and closed the door. Harry could hear the mother and daughter duo laughing from the other side of the door, and he swore he could have died from embarrassment. Harry closed his eyes and decided that it would be a _very_ long break.


End file.
